


Midnight Miles Motel Rm. 211

by Buffy (BuffyScribbles)



Series: Wild Boys [1]
Category: The Flash (TV 2014), The Flash - All Media Types
Genre: Dirty Talk, M/M, No Strings Attached, PWP, Smut, fast and hard, i know its short but I'd be so hyped if you gave it a try, kind of sexy, may continue writing these two, raunchy sex, spontaneous fic writing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-31
Updated: 2016-01-31
Packaged: 2018-05-17 08:10:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 917
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5860978
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BuffyScribbles/pseuds/Buffy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry knows they're not supposed to be doing this. He doesn't care. He's in it for the sex. And the sex? Yeah, the sex is amazing.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Midnight Miles Motel Rm. 211

**Author's Note:**

> The wild boys are calling  
> On their way back from the fire  
> In august moon's surrender to  
> A dust cloud on the rise  
> Wild boys fallen far from glory  
> Reckless and so hungered
> 
> \-- '[The Wild Boys](https://play.spotify.com/track/46nfRilTLUROAFTUhT5fdE)' Duran Duran

“Oh my god, _ohmygod_ ,” Barry’s moans were breathy, and his eyes screwed up tight for just a moment. The edge-corner-something of the tacky motel dresser bit into his hips and his stomach and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it. And that’s exactly how he liked it.

It didn’t take much to push Mick Rory’s buttons, to get under his skin and ignite the flames that licked through his veins. The first time Barry had seen the heat in the man’s eyes directed at him, it went straight to his dick, hardened his cock, and fueled his fantasies for at least a week.

That’s how long he made it before he zipped the criminal to the edge of Central, and a seedy motel, and about three hours of pure filth.

“Don’t get lost on me now, red,” his lover(?) growled into his ear. Barry gasped as a strong hand twisted into his hair, yanking his head back. One arm flew up, bracing his hand against the wall.

He could see Mick behind him, via the mirror, and there was something voyeuristically delicious about it that had Barry trembling and bucking his hips back into Mick’s crotch. Their eyes locked in the reflection for a moment, electric heat. “I’m right here, god just, Mick,” he twisted his head around and clamped his hand against the back of Mick’s neck to use his lips to beg in a completely different way.

Barry felt his lover’s grunting groan buzz against his mouth, and trembled when he felt Mick’s heavy boots kicking his feet apart. All too happy to comply, Barry flash-shucked his clothes off and reached back, digging his nails into the side of a meaty thigh. “C’mon, fuck, please, you know I fucking want it.”

Mick didn’t hesitate, and Barry didn’t care, because he finally got what he’d been craving when Mick thrust into him in one strong push.

“Yes, _yessss_ , god yeah,” Barry was nearly out of his mind already, toes curling into the questionable carpet and static-stars pulsing behind his eyelids, but the pressure of Mick’s thickness was so damn satisfying.

“I’m gonna light you up, red,” (it was red, never ever anything else). Mick was gorgeous and sexy and everything Barry never knew he needed in The World’s Best/Worst Fuck Buddy.

Mick’s hips dragged back, slow, so slow, but Barry knew what was coming. He’d always try, make an attempt to make it ‘good and slow’, but it just wasn’t in the cards with them.

Barry’s nails blunted into Mick’s thigh and the man growled as the flat of a hand pressed into the center of his back to lay bend Barry’s upper half across the top of the bureau. “Fuck it,” Barry heard distantly over his shoulder and he let out a breathy laugh-- it was cut into by a long, loud cry.

Mick had grabbed Barry’s hips, framed in his hands, and Barry could almost feel his lover’s fingertips touching eachother against his skin. He was effectively pinned, Mick shifted to get his footing, and oh god Barry was done for. 

The dresser shuddered beneath the onslaught, and Barry, between Mick and the furniture, was losing it.

“Oh my, _fuck_ , Mick yeah, yeah shit baby, shit harder, god its so good, fuck--”

“Love that dirty mouth of yours.”

The obscene slapping of skin, panting, Barry’s litany of praises and begs all swirled together to charge the room, and spurred Mick on, who slid a hand up to the small of Barry’s back and leaned back slightly. 

“Open up, red,” Mick’s rough grumble cut into Barry’s sex babble, and so did his two fingers as they hooked into Barry’s mouth. It was all instinct when Barry sucked and laved around them, gasping when the digits went away.

“Are you going to--”

“Don’t pretend like you don’t love it.”

Mick’s thrusting stilled, for just a moment, working his slickened fingers in alongside his dick buried to the hilt inside Barry.

“Ohhhhhhhhhhhyeah.”

Barry’s arms stretched out to hook his hands over the other side of the dresser, body abuzz, and the phrase ‘just lay down again take it’ drifted into his mind.

God, but he loved it like this, even with the ache and sharp of pain and this was so beyond irresponsible (was he bleeding yet?) but he didn’t care, he just didn’t.

It took a few tries but Mick found his rhythm again. Barry’s hands were white knuckling over the edge of the dresser, shivering as Mick’s free hand burned up the line of his spine. He swore he could feel the head of his lover’s cock scraping and pressing something deep inside, Barry had never felt so damn full in his life, and the velvet heat of the pushpushdrag was the easiest thing to give into.

“FUCK, red!”

Mick pounded a fist against the wall, _hard_. The mirror rattled and threatened to fall, and Barry cried out and clamped down on the pulsing dick inside him.

It took Mick a minute to come back to himself, and when he did, Barry was flipped over. He was flushed, nearly gulping in breaths, and his cock was curved and weeping over his stomach. Barry was frazzled and ached for release, and knew he wouldn’t be denied. Three fingers immediately pressed into his ass, and Mick grinned, broad and flinty.

“C’mon now, red, gimme a show.”

A smirk, and Barry took himself in hand. It was going to be a perfectly sticky-long night.

**Author's Note:**

> I enjoyed writing this! It was great fun. If you have any ideas for something more you'd like to see from these two, feel free to hit me up in the comments or [in my ask box on tumblr]()!
> 
> Original tumblr post [here](http://buffyscribbles.tumblr.com/post/138374436586/coldflashtrash-buffyscribbles).


End file.
